


Fail is the New Win

by puckity



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Car Accidents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Strong Babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-13
Updated: 2010-03-13
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:58:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1910079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puckity/pseuds/puckity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seungri’s win is the sum total of all his fails. Even Daesung can concede that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fail is the New Win

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2010 for LJ user xbigbangx ’s 'As long as you're happy, then it's okay.' prompt. The video they're shooting is "声をきかせて (Koe wo Kikasete)", Daesung’s first one after his accident.
> 
> Self-beta'd.
> 
> You can also follow me on [Tumblr](http://puckity.tumblr.com/).

“Who’s ready for this video?” Seungri stretched wide in his seat, watching the crowd of fans ebb outside their van windows. “I am so ready for this video!”

Jiyong kicked the back of his shin. “You’re just ready for the fangirls.” Next to him, Youngbae bit his lip and nodded.

“Not unless they look like Aoi Miyazaki.” Seungri waited one beat and then cracked up.

He’d learned not to wait too long for other people’s laughter—it usually didn’t come. This time Youngbae did laugh, possibly to offset Seungri’s exaggerated guffaws in the confined space. Jiyong smirked without a sound but they all heard it anyway. Even Seunghyun, headphones on and sitting in the back seat half-hidden from view, crinkled indulgent eyes towards the magnae. Then Jiyong whispered something to Youngbae that made him choke out the rest of his laughter and their manager and driver started arguing about a roadblock and no one noticed but Seungri’d stopped laughing a while ago.

It was Daesung. No response, no acknowledgment. A silence that Seungri couldn’t understand. Of course he _understood_ silence—even if he didn’t practice it much—but this silence was not like other silences. It was vacant and cold, Daesung’s morning breath against the van window. His stare, blinking slow and disjointed at the energy and chaos on the other side. A silence that had been following him and seemed to say he had nothing to contribute, nothing to share with others anymore and no reason to pretend otherwise.

Seungri shivered. He decided that he hated that silence. He really did.

\---

“Cut! Seungri!” Seungri stopped mid choreographed-step and jogged towards the YG Japan representative, concentrating on his rapid fire Japanese. Seungri always managed to catch a few words; this time it was ‘song’ and ‘you’ and ‘better’. He nodded along seriously. Then the words pitched up and stopped, and he knew there was a question somewhere he was supposed to answer.

He fumbled around trying to remember some key phrase he’d understood at the end. Probably something easy like “Do you understand?” or “Can you do that?”—and that frustrated Seungri even more because by now he should have learned enough Japanese to know those kinds of things. This representative, he decided, must have some sort of _accent_.

“Well?” The representative’s jaw twitched.

Seungri realized this was one of those emergency situations that required Youngbae-hyung’s Last Resort: _When all else fails look earnest, say yes, and bow._

“Yes, sir.” Seungri dropped a stiff—and probably too low—bow. He never could bow well under pressure.

The representative looked him over long and skeptical before waving him off. Seungri walked back to the others in heavier steps. At the sound of approaching thuds, Youngbae turned from talking to Seunghyun.

“What was that all about?”

“Me doing better so I don’t shame the group,” Seungri shrugged. “As usual.”

“He wants you to make more sensitive facial expressions—” Seungri jolted at the unexpected voice. “—and soften your body movements.” He hadn’t really realized Daesung was there, leaning against a decorative shelf he almost blended into.

Seungri fumbled for less than a second. He always recovered quickly. “I don’t understand why we have to listen to him at all. Shouldn’t these kinds of comments come from the director?” He fumed and Youngbae massaged his shoulder soothingly.

“We’d listen to the Korean YG reps, so I guess it’s not all that much different.” He let go of Seungri and turned towards the shelf, smiling. “Dae, your Japanese is really improving.”

“No,” Daesung answered short and blunt and didn’t look at any of them. “I just recognized what he was saying because he said the same thing to Seunghyun-hyung yesterday.”

“He doesn’t understand my style.” Seunghyun’s mouth twisted with the bad taste of criticism. Youngbae patted his back.

“I know, hyung.”

Seungri quirked an eyebrow at the two of them then looked back at Daesung.

Daesung, who should be the one coddling their oldest hyung, or at least making a joke to counter his sulking. Then Youngbae-hyung would squeeze his arm and Seungri would laugh obnoxious and too late and the rest of them would shake their heads and things would be normal. But Daesung didn’t do that, any of that. All he did was pick at his sleeve cuffs like he’d forgotten he was wearing a shirt to begin with and that was about all the un-normal Seungri could stomach.

“Where’s Jiyong-hyung?” It came out unplanned and urgent. Youngbae and Seunghyun looked at him and shrugged out-of-sync.

“Try the dressing rooms?” Seunghyun messed with the buttons on his jacket.

“Or the monitors, more likely.” Youngbae stepped towards him. “You want me to help you find him?”

“No,” Seungri waved him back. “I got it.” He glanced at Daesung, staring far and blank. Then he walked away heels clicking crisply.

The clicks didn’t lose beat until Seungri knew he was safely out of earshot.

\---

“No, no, no,” Jiyong’s hand smacked against his forehead. “Please, just stop.”

“Why?” Seungri swung his hips emphatically. “This is how you said to do it.”

Jiyong jabbed a finger at him. “That is not at all how I said to do it.” Seungri crossed his arms in a huff but stopped dancing.

“Now don’t get upset.” Jiyong rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. “Not everyone can do a butt dance. That’s just something you have to accept.”

“Maybe if I had a better teacher…” Seungri muttered but Jiyong caught it. He leaned forward, eyes narrowed.

“What?” He hovered—head cocked right so he seemed off-balance—too close to Seungri’s face. His grin was toothy and with each beat of silence his mouth pulled farther back, exposing another row of dangerous white.

“Do you know what’s wrong with Daesung-hyung?” It surprised Seungri again, coming out fast and loud. Jiyong’s eyebrows went up and his head straightened.

“What do you mean?” He moved back and started smoothing down his hair in the dressing room mirror. Seungri stood behind him and adjusted his scarf.

“I don’t know.” He wanted to drape haphazardly, like the stylists did. “He just doesn’t seem like himself anymore. He doesn’t laugh or make jokes—he just stands there. He won’t even look at us when we’re talking.”

Jiyong spun around and swatted his hand away from the impending accessory-disaster. Seungri tried not to fidget while he rearranged the material.

“He was in a car accident, Seungri.” Jiyong leaned back to examine his work. He shook his head quick and unsatisfied and pulled at the folds again. “That changes a person. And this is his first time back on a shoot, and with us all together. It’s gonna be different.” He leaned back once more and nodded. “There.”

Seungri went to the mirror and marveled at the perfect tumble of fabric. His hands unconsciously reached up in admiration.

“Don’t touch it!” Jiyong knocked him hard. Seungri flattened his hands against his thighs. Behind them, there were three sharp knocks against the door.

“Two minutes ‘til the next scene!”

“Got it!” Jiyong shouted back. Then he pinned Seungri with one of his serious leader looks.

“Daesung will go back to normal eventually. He just needs time. And you shouldn’t expect him to entertain you every second of the day anyway—try entertaining yourself once in a while. I know it’s hard when you lack a regular sense of humor…” Seungri shoved him half-heartedly and he chuckled.

“If you’re worried about him, you could always try making _him_ laugh.” Seungri’s mouth shot open like it had something to say but forgot to mention it to his brain. After a moment it shut again.

“Just a thought.” Jiyong opened the door and winked. “Our two minutes are up.”

\---

“What is up with Seungri?”

The three hyungs spoke in muted tones, huddled around the refreshment table where Jiyong and Youngbae had found Seunghyun.

“He’s been acting strange all day.” Youngbae whispered nervously then amended, “Stranger than usual.”

Seunghyun shoved a piece of kimbab into his mouth and talked around it. “How can you even tell what’s strange from him?” His eyes darted and he stopped chewing. He nodded in Jiyong’s direction. They all turned towards a jittery new PA waiting outside their cluster. Jiyong told him something about discussing a personal matter—that they just needed another minute or two—and waved him off. The PA bowed quickly and shuffled away, clearly relieved that he hadn’t had to speak.

“It’s like he’s trying to be funny.” Youngbae’s fingers tapped staccato against the edge of the table.

Seunghyun didn’t look up from the plate of assorted chunky cookies next to the kimbab. “Who?”

“Seungri!”

“Oh. Yeah.” He stared longingly at the cookies for one more second before pulling out his bag of mixed nuts. He swallowed an almond but didn’t look happy about it. “How was he trying to be funny with you?”

“A lot of little things mostly.” Youngbae took a gulp from his water bottle. “Weird impersonations, joking around with the crew, his bizarre dance moves.”

“To be fair, he’s been bothering me about that KARA dance for weeks.” Jiyong poked a finger into Youngbae’s bicep. “And you were the one encouraging him with all your spanking.”

“One time. I did that one time.” Youngbae elbowed Jiyong playfully. “And it wasn’t just that dance—he was doing some gags for me earlier too. And he got Seunghyun-hyung to do his silly dance.”

“Not that it takes much.” Jiyong grinned across the table. “You’re getting better at dancing, hyung.”

“Thanks,” Seunghyun muttered, cheeks flushing beneath his styled bangs. He stuffed a handful of roasted peanuts into his mouth.

Jiyong turned back to Youngbae. “Anyway, this all sounds like classic attention-seeking magnae to me. I don’t see what’s so strange about it.”

“I don’t know how to explain it.” Youngbae paused and scratched his neck. “The things he’s doing are normal, but the way he’s doing them isn’t. It feels like he wants something and I just don’t know what it is.”

“What about Dae?” This time Seunghyun swallowed before speaking. “Has Seungri been trying to be funny with him? Because that _would_ be strange.”

Youngbae mumbled something ambiguous but Jiyong stopped, stiff and sudden, like he’d just found the right wire to cut. His eyes focused sharp on nothing in particular.

“Daesung…”

\---

Seungri coughed once, twice. He fidgeted with the buttons on his sleeve. He looked to the left, to the right, behind. Clear. He counted to ten in his head and started walking, trying to seem as confident as he wasn’t.

“Hyung!” He threw his arm up in a dramatic wave even though Daesung was less than a metre away.

Daesung glanced at him and Seungri thought— _not_ imagined—that a hint of a smile tiptoed across his face. Then it was flat, neutral again and maybe slightly confused.

“Hyung, I have something to show you.” Seungri flashed his trademark smirk, cocky yet adorable. Daesung’s face scrunched.

“Something to show me?” He stood up straighter. “Why? Where are the hyungs?”

Seungri shrugged and answered honestly. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. This is for you.”

“For _me_?” Daesung repeated, crossing his arms. “Why would you do something just for me?”

Seungri’s smirk faltered. He grit his teeth in frustration. “Because I wanted to! Will you just watch it once? Please, hyung?” Daesung seemed taken aback but didn’t make any more objections. Seungri began moving into position.

“Oh!” He froze; he’d completely forgotten the introduction. His twisted awkwardly to address Daesung again. “I did this on _Family Outing_ when I was filling in for you. They cut it in post so I thought you ought to see it firsthand.” He twisted back.

He stood for a moment—legs together, knees bent, arms hanging loose, head down. He took three long breaths to calm the churning at the bottom of his stomach. Then he counted out, “One, two, three, four!” and went for it.

At first it was just a few shimmies with a couple “Boy, boy, hey you go boy!”s thrown in. Then the skipping started with intermittent “Okay!”s and a few low kicks. Finally it was time for the main event. Seungri stole a glance at Daesung’s face, still confused and now more than a little startled. If this didn’t make him smile Seungri decided that there was nothing more he could do.

He started to swing his arm wildly over his head, trying to match it with his hip swirls. He dipped his neck and tossed his head but since he didn’t have long hair the only thing he succeeded in flipping was his scarf. He tried to keep the song going but all he managed was a pitiful, “Crazy night…dancing lights…home tonight…let’s go party tonight!” He repeated the chorus once more and went for the finale. He dragged his hands up the sides of his body the sexiest way he knew how and thrust them triumphantly over his head, shouted “You go boy!” and waited for the reaction.

After a few seconds of silence—that silence that he hated—Seungri opened his eyes. Daesung was staring at him and blinking slowly, like he couldn’t quite process what just happened. Seungri, panting from the effort, dropped his arms.

“Well?” He asked through heavy breaths.

Daesung opened his mouth, then closed it. “It was good.” He spoke carefully. “I mean, for what it was.”

What it was. _It was supposed to be funny_ , Seungri whispered in his head. He tried to stretch his lips into something like gratitude.

“Oh. Thanks.”

They stood there, a puddle of awkwardness curling around them. Seungri sighed low. “I guess I’ll be going then.” Daesung gestured vaguely and Seungri wondered what he’d really expected to come out of this. He turned to leave.

He hadn’t walked far—he hadn’t even gotten to the corner—when he heard it. At first Seungri thought it was crying but then he distinctly heard a snort. He spun around to see Daesung doubled over, chest heaving, hands ineffectively covering his mouth. He stomped back over. Realizing he’d been caught, Daesung tried to compose himself.

Seungri stopped right in front of his hyung. Daesung was biting his lip so hard it was losing color.

“What are you doing?!” Seungri demanded. His voice cracked from anger. “Why are you laughing?”

Daesung shook his head and tried to say something, but it came out garbled through his bit lips.

“You thought my dancing was funny? Why didn’t you say so before, hyung?” He squeezed his fists tight. “Was it just too pathetic for you to laugh at?”

“No,” Daesung freed his mouth and looked down at his shoes. “It just…I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I know you prepared that dance for me and I didn’t want you to take my laughing the wrong way.” At that, Seungri exploded.

“What?! I prepared that dance _for_ you to laugh at! It was supposed to be funny! When you didn’t laugh I thought you thought it was just stupid so I was depressed and then you started laughing and I thought you must just think I’m a total fool who would always be pathetic funny and never real funny and—” He broke off. Daesung grabbed his hands and rubbed circles across his palms.

“Seungri. Seungri, relax.” Daesung had his hyung face on and Seungri thought he must have been practicing because it’d gotten much better. “It was funny. Real funny. I just didn’t get it. I mean, you’re not really a gagman, especially when it comes to your dancing.”

“I wanted to make you laugh.” Seungri blurted it out and blamed the palm-rubbing for distracting him from being cool. He corrected himself. “I wanted to make you smile.”

“Why?” The question was different when Daesung asked it this time.

“You don’t smile anymore. You don’t laugh. You don’t make jokes like before.” Daesung’s face hardened at the corners of his eyes and mouth.

“I’m not a comedian, Seungri.”

“I didn’t want you to make me laugh.” Seungri’s tone was simple. “I just hate your silence and I think you hate it too.” Daesung seemed to struggle unsuccessfully for a response but Seungri didn’t mind. For some reason the quiet between them was a little more bearable now.

He didn’t think he’d planned it. He couldn’t be absolutely sure since it happened so fast—one minute they were just standing there and the next Seungri had his arms around Daesung’s neck and his face buried under his jaw smelling some scent that seemed too manly for this particular hyung—but he hadn’t planned to do that with the dance so he had to assume it was spontaneous.

Daesung was warm and hard and Seungri sort of wanted to melt into him, though he couldn’t understand why. A year ago he would have considered himself, personally, more adult than their group’s most innocent and sweet member. Now he felt so young—and so strange. Well, he didn’t feel strange but Daesung must have thought he was since he hadn’t really hugged him back. Seungri loosened his grip, reluctant to fully let go.

“I smiled yesterday, I’m smiling today, I’ll smile tomorrow.” Daesung’s voice was low and gravelly against his hair and Seungri thought that up close he sounded like he smelled. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“It wasn’t enough.” Seungri felt Daesung’s hands run slowly across his back. He brought his lips to Daesung’s ear. “I wanted to be the reason you smiled.” He pressed a soft kiss to Daesung’s cheek and mumbled, “I guess.”

Daesung’s hands moved to his shoulders and firmly pushed him back, enough so that he could look Seungri in the eye. “Am I supposed to laugh now too?”

Seungri choked on the air and coughed. “It’s, um, your call. I guess.” Daesung’s eyes crinkled and he leaned forward.

Seungri stiffened, completely unsure of what to do. He’d never been kissed by one of the members before. Well, a few times when Jiyong-hyung had been feeling particularly sadistic. And once with Seunghyun-hyung during the kiss scene for ‘Beethoven Virus’ when they’d messed up the angles. But never like this—puffy lips and little gasps and what Seungri was fairly certain was some tongue. Struggling not to lose all his stocked cool points in one day, Seungri grabbed a fistful of Daesung’s shirt and tried to memorize his taste. Banana milk and lemon throat candy and a hint of his regular eggs-and-rice breakfast. He swallowed, determined the keep that flavor in the back of his throat because who knew when he’d get another helping.

Finally Daesung pulled back. Still-puckering, Seungri opened his eyes and squinted against the light. He refocused on exactly what he’d wanted to see all day: his hyung smiling, eyes small and cheeks round and mouth wide and playful. Seungri grinned stupid and gulped down the fluttering in his chest.

“You should know, magnae, that if you’re gonna play this game with me,” Daesung tipped in and whispered hot against his lips. “I’ll always get the last laugh.” Seungri’s breath hitched and Daesung chuckled deep and dangerous. He squeezed Seungri’s hands and let them fall into silence.

And this time Seungri liked it a lot more. He really did.


End file.
